The Men of Before
by AnimaAmore
Summary: SIDE story(-ies) to "The Perfect Costume Problem." The untold stories of the the monsters of Akatsuki, before and after they met Pein, and, most importantly, the Angela Sakura.
1. Deidara I

**Author: **AnimaAmore

**Rating: **T, mainly for language but some other situations that require some level of maturity

**Genre(s):** Romance, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Adventure, Fantasy

**Type of Fanfic:** AU modern

**Pairing(s):** SakuraMulti, SakuraAkatsuki, SakuraxTeam7

**Disclaimer:** Characters all belong to Masashi Kishimoto. This story, however, is mine.

**Author comments:** Due to popular demand, here is the first instalment of my _Angela &amp; Monsters_ trilogy. Yes, you heard right - a trilogy. Aside from "The Perfect Costume Problem" which was the original (and now Book 1 of the trilogy), popular demand has made me think that story needed a little more. Hence, here is "The Men of Before" (Book 1+1/2) which is a collection of side stories telling the pasts of the monsters, and finally "Angela on a Mission" (Book 2) which will tell the adventures of Angela Sakura as she learns how to use her newfound powers while dealing with the infatuated monsters and all their quirks. I hope you like :)

Please read, review and enjoy!

* * *

**Deidara I**

So I'm a demon, yeah.

Actually, I don't have a clue what type of demon. After all the years I've had this form Pein gave me, I've researched different demon types to see if there are any side effects I don't know about my monster form. So far, I've come up blank. Sure, there were a few hits of monsters with mouths on their hands like me, yeah, but none quite like me. They were just regular monsters, not something specific like me, yeah.

I dunno if to be pleased at the idea of being absolutely unique or not, yeah. I'm practically an endangered species.

I was currently sitting on a huge tree in a little valley in the middle of only Pein-knows-where. It's our hideout, of sorts, yeah. We - I mean Pein and the other monsters, the "coven" or whatever - can live for some time in mundane human society, but every now and again we go to a little location Pein set up for us so we can be ourselves. I mean our monster selves, yeah.

It's bizarre. I've gotten used to it by now, but the thing is that if we go too long on our normal human forms without turning into our monster forms, we start to get fidgety. Pein says that it's because we are no longer fully human, and we're repressing half of ourselves; hence, our monster side can't be "free" and gets pent up. It's a crazy explanation, yeah. But it fits. It's like holding our breath. Every time we exhale, yeah, we are monsters, and every time we inhale, we are humans. If we hold our breath to hold our human forms, we have to let it go eventually or else the discomfort will eventually be unbearable. And in between the inhales and exhales, we find our true selves - our cores, our state of being and existing.

Such a poetic (and right to a T) way of putting it, yeah. Though I shouldn't be surprised. It was Sakura-chan who came up with that, yeah.

Sakura had been, obviously, invited to our hideout and provided a room of her own. Not that she actually really stayed overnight, yeah, but she had at least accepted and showed up relatively frequently. Since this place was difficult as hell to locate, Pein had given her a little charm that served as some sort of key to a time-space wormhole or something. So the nice thing about that was that when she showed up, she could stay for more than a couple hours at a time, yeah. Which was not only "nice" in the nonchalant sense of the word, but pretty damn good, yeah. I mean, with over a dozen monsters practically tripping over themselves to spend time with her, the extra hours are more than welcome.

Speaking of which, there she comes. I looked down from my perch, her exotic pink hair immediately catching my attention between the trees.

"Sakura-chan, yeah!" I called out to her, stretching my wings out as I swooped down.

She jumped, startled, turning her head to look up at me. She smiled and raised her hand in greeting as her gaze followed me all the way down until I landed only a couple of feet from her. "Hi there, Deidara," she said.

I folded my wings back and reached out to hug her - a practice only some of the other dorks and I could get away with – when a hand burst into my peripheral vision just an instant before colliding with my solar plexus and pushing my back. It didn't hurt me, yeah, but it sure as hell was an effective deterrent.

I pushed my hair back and scowled at the one responsible, while Sakura merely sighed and shook her head, long used to this type of behavior.

"Sorry, doggie-kun, I didn't notice you there, yeah," I said sarcastically to the resident werewolf. He bared his teeth at me, letting out a low growl.

"Sorry, dumbass-san, I didn't know you were blind, _yeah_," he bit back. "I'll make sure to wear some neon signs next time." His insufferable furry companion, Akamaru, who was tucked into his jacket pocket, barked in agreement.

Before I could use my mouths to turn them both into a nice fur coat and pull rug, respectively, Sakura placed herself between us. "Alright, you two, that's enough," she said, glaring disapprovingly between us. "And you're not helping any either." Akamaru whined but otherwise just stayed put and sulked, yeah.

I smirked. That's my Sakura-chan, yeah.

"Anyway, I've spent the last two hours with you, Kiba," Sakura continued on. I frowned. Two hours? In a row? "I think it's time I spent some time with Deidara now. I didn't really get to spend much time with him yesterday, or the day before."

It was obvious that dog-breath wasn't too keen on her idea, but after throwing her a puppy-eyed look (snort) and seeing no indication of her switching her mind, he lowered his head in acceptance. She sent him one last smile before turning towards me. But of course, the stupid mutt couldn't let it go at that, yeah.

No, the furry idiot whipped around and _bloody licked her cheek! _Like some sort of beast, yeah! As if kissing her wasn't bad enough, it had to be like a freaking dog, yeah!

"_Kiba!"_ both Sakura and I screeched at the same time, she with shocked mortification and I in jealous anger (I'll admit it, yeah). How dare he! Sakura swung her fist around, but the werewolf was already long gone, his supernatural abilities giving him both speed and quick reflexes. His annoying laugh followed the cloud of smoke he left on his wake.

I opened my wings, ready to follow him and teach him a lesson he wouldn't soon forget, yeah, but Sakura merely had to hold my hand and I was rooted to the spot. I glanced down at her, questioningly.

"I can't believe he did that," she complained, cutely rubbing her cheek with her sweater sleeve as she tried to get Kiba's "kiss" off her cheek. "I mean, it's cute when Akamaru does it, but he's a dog. Getting licked by a human is just…" She shook her head, glancing at me guiltily. "Your hands are the one exception, since I know you can't fully control them."

I resisted the urge to smirk smugly. It was true that I didn't have full control of the mouths on my hands, yeah, but what Sakura didn't know was that although not full, I still had a pretty good control over them. I just merely, occasionally, happen to "slip up" on said control when she was around. Like about now.

Sakura jumped slightly, her green eyes darting quickly to our joined hands before narrowing her eyes at me. "That was on purpose, Deidara. You can't fool me," she said. I grinned at her, giving her an abashed look while scratching the back of my head. Sakura had actually a pretty good intuition. While she couldn't always tell when my hands did something out of their own volition or because of me, she could mostly guess correctly, yeah.

"Sorry Sakura-chan, yeah."

She rolled her eyes, but a tiny smile made its way onto her face nonetheless. Seeing her now, it was hard to tell how badly we'd scared her when she first met the coven. She talked to us as if we were just more of her normal, fully-human friends, yeah, taking all our quirks – personality ones as well as those of our monster shapes – in stride. That's what everyone loves about her. I sure as hell know I do, yeah. And for more than just that.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just try not to do that again, okay?" I nodded. "Good. Well then, we have some time before I have to go. Not that much, but enough. What would you like to do?"

I thought about it, tugging slightly on her hand and guiding her through the dense woods around the mansion. We often took long walks like this. It was relaxing, yeah, and nice to get away from all the noise of the others. "How about we continue where we left off, yeah?" I suggested. "I kind of like the speech therapy we've done so far." It had been another one of her ideas. This way, she got to know more about our pasts while getting used to our current us. Plus, she said, talking about ourselves was a good way to get to know ourselves and release some of the pent-up emotions we've been harboring since we never talk about our pasts. It's worked well so far, yeah. The others seem slightly less grumpy too.

"Sure," she said with a smile. "Same place as last time?" I grinned at her, pulling her towards me and extending my wings.

"You know it, yeah," I said as I scooped her up in a princess carry and shot upwards; her breathless yelp the only indication I'd caught her unprepared.

"_Deidara! Slow down!"_ she shrieked as she wrapped her arms around my neck and tightened her grip to an almost painful point as I changed the angle of wings and sped forward. I couldn't stop grinning yeah. Messing with her like this was just so much fun.

"What was that?" I called to her. "You want me to go down? Okay, yeah." She began to correct me when I suddenly swooped down and shot towards the ground, her surprised scream trailing behind us as the wind shrieked in our ears. I laughed merrily all the way down, then pulled up just before we reached the canopy.

I was still laughing at the fun and exhilaration of it all, flying way more slowly and serenely towards our spot by the nearby river; a sharp contrast to the roller coaster ride of just a second ago. I looked down at Sakura. "How was _that_, yeah?"

She forced herself to release the death grip she had on me with one hand, using it to shakily brush her hair out of her face. She glared at me. "Very funny," she grumbled sarcastically. "You know I'm still getting used to flying with you guys. Especially you, Mr. Loose Cannon. If you ever want me to fly with you again, wait until I'm ready."

I pouted. "You know I'd never drop you, Sakura-chan, yeah," I said.

"That's not the issue and you know it. I need to be both mentally _and_ physically prepared. Gods, if I was even thirty years older, I'd have suffered a heart attack long ago."

"Then it's a good thing you're young and beautiful, yeah," I chirped. She rolled her eyes again, her cheeks taking on a faint pink color.

"Just don't do that again, Dei." This time, I was sure it was me whose cheeks were slightly tainted pink. It really was no secret that I was sucker for her nickname for me, yeah. And she clearly knew it.

"Fine, yeah," I acquiesced. Sakura was very sharp, yeah, but what neither she nor anyone else knew was that the main reason I did what I did when flying with her was, aside from the obvious rush, that I really, really liked how tightly she held on to me. Not because she was scared of falling – her absolute trust in me was moving, yeah – but because it was her natural reaction to reach out for someone. And I delighted in the knowledge that said someone was me (though it was I who caused the need for said reaction to begin with, yeah).

We arrived at our little spot by the river. I found the biggest tree in the area, an old oak with thick branches each strong enough to hold the combined weights of several adults, and an even thicker trunk. I landed on one of the largest branches and gently placed Sakura on her feet as my wings folded behind me. Sakura walked towards a little nest she'd made for herself on our previous visits, composed of some spare blankets and cushions to make our "sessions" more comfortable on the tree. She combed her hair as she sat down, crossing her legs beneath her. I followed her lead and perched beside her, on a side branch with many smaller branches tied to and growing from it to form a cocoon-like seat.

"So where were we, yeah?" I asked her, sounding like I'd sincerely forgotten as I leaned back and used rested my head on my arms. As if.

Sakura, satisfied she'd wrestled her tousled locks into a semi-proper style, puffed up a pillow before settling it behind her as a backrest. "You'd just finished telling me about the first time you ever saw fireworks," she responded. I grinned.

"Now I remember, yeah." I looked up as I mentally recalled what I'd told her so far.

* * *

_I'd been born in Germany, in 1893, back when it was an Empire before the First World War. My parents lived and worked in a small town near the capital city, my mother as a simple washerwoman and my father a librarian assistant._

_I was the third of six children, but my older sister and the eldest of the six had been born with a weak heart and died when I was four. The youngest two of my siblings, twins Arndt and Marko, didn't survive childbirth and died shortly after being born when I was seven. My mother had almost died then, too, but through great efforts of the local doctor and midwife, and my mother's iron will, did she recuperate. However, she was told she'd never have more children. She took it surprisingly well, saying that after birthing six and losing half, she'd be more than happy to focus on the health of her surviving children._

_Otto, my older brother by a year and a half, and Mirjam, my younger sister by nearly three, were the two siblings who grew up with me. _

_Otto, the silent, brooding, ever-so-serious with no sense of humor brother, was a miniature adult. He took his duties and role as an older brother and eldest son with a deep sense of responsibility. It was no secret that he was my father's favorite, though my father denied it. I couldn't really blame either of them, though. My father himself was a serious man, rarely smiling even when he was pleased; while Otto's personality allowed him to help my father in his work very often._

_Mirjam, sweet, happy Mirjam… The opposite of Otto, she was a true little bundle of joy, a true ray of sunshine. She was the one thing that could make my father smile tenderly, and the one person Otto would allow himself to embrace. While Otto was my father's favorite, Mirjam was my mother's. It wouldn't really surprise me to find that she was the whole town's favorite, yeah. It was impossible to not love her. She's been but a baby when our eldest sister, Letta, had died, and was still fairly young when the twins passed away, so while I'm sure she felt their loss at some level, she wasn't as affected as the rest of us; hence, her smile could remain radiant without the touch of heartbreak to wilt it. _

"So while in reality I was one of the oldest," I'd told Sakura, "I was really the middle child all along, yeah. And middle children often have trouble getting noticed."

_Otto, the eldest son, the old man in a boy's body was often spoken well of in all the social circles; praised for how responsible, smart and hard working he was, how blessed my father was for having such a son to inherit the family name._

_Mirjam, the little princess, the source of all happiness was like a treasure. She was beautiful, and was nicknamed endearingly "The Town's Fairy," for truly she was beyond lovely; with her long golden hair, huge sky-blue eyes and sweet dimpled smile with rose-petal lips and natural blush. The townsfolk would stop by just to take a glance at her, and the women would send her gifts just to keep her happy and smiling. They all said the same thing: how blessed my family was to have such an angel in their midst._

"But that's normal, isn't it?" Sakura had asked, noticing how bittersweet I sounded as I retold my past. "For children to be their family's blessing, I mean."

I'd given her a small, sad smile at her innocent inquiry. "Sakura-chan," I'd answered her, "I never included my name in that list, yeah."

_Otto was the responsible one, the one who'd one day inherit the family name._

_Mirjam was the lovely princess, the God-sent angel of joy._

_And I was Deidara, the poor sucker who never quite fit in._

_As Hidan previously said, in his not-so-polite wayward way, I had a thing for tasting things. I wasn't so stupid as to stuff my mouth with any random crap that crossed my path, yeah, but I was adventurous. It might be because I had a more sensitive palate than the others of my town, but I was fascinated by how each substance had its own unique taste; how perfectly identifiable something was by using only my taste buds. Just like some people become addicted to collecting paintings and invaluable objects, I became addicted to collecting flavors._

_And that's when any reputation I might've had begun to deteriorate._

_At first it was innocent enough. People found my silly experimentations amusing, and teased me in a good-humored sort of way. Some would give me scraps from a "secret family recipe" and asked my opinion on it. Some asked me if I could identify the ingredients. It never failed to amaze some of them how accurate I was. Others who went out of town sometimes brought food souvenirs, and gave me a smidge to try. And on sillier occasions, some other kids would purposely cook some disgusting thing for me to eat, which I did to humor them. It was pure fun, even if it never really amounted to anything._

_But then things got strange. My curiosity about flavors spiked, and I started tasting other things other than food. Trees, leaves, grass, flowers, even some bugs. I didn't eat them, I just wanted to taste them. But that was weird enough as it was. And sooner or later, the rumor that I'd eat anything sprung to life. People who'd know my family and I all my life begun to give me odd looks. Kids who'd played with me on a daily basis begun to ostracize me. And younger kids begun to fear me, thinking that if they displeased me I'd actually eat _them_. _

_It wasn't long before the taunting and bullying started. And after that, it wasn't a novelty for some of the crueler kids and adults to forcefully manhandle me into either staying clear of their property or forcing some nasty shit down my throat. I became violently ill several times. The doctor became a constant presence in my home, more often than not to make sure I hadn't been unintentionally poisoned and to heal some of the injuries I'd receive by some of the most aggressive and violent assholes._

_The thing is, that upon realizing what my odd hobby was doing, I tried to change. I stopped tasting everything; I even went so far as eat less to make it look like I wasn't, in fact, a bottomless, all-consuming devouring monster. But it was too late. Rumors, gossip and wild imagination had taken hold of my life._

_I think the only thing that was worse than being an outcast in my own town and being constantly hurt was the fact that my family, who tried their best to protect me and make excuses for me, soon lost patience with _me_. The townsfolk started to praise my siblings and my parents' luck less and less, and instead gossiped disapprovingly and pitied my family for having a problem child such as I as one of them. Any prestige my family might have had was quickly replaced my scorn and suspicion, all because of me._

_As you might imagine, my parents didn't take it kindly. They loved me in their own way, yes, but… It was hard. Especially when the maltreatment persisted, even after all the changes my family and I made. Especially when my brother grew up and went from being the boy with a thousand paths laid before him to becoming the assistant of the assistant in some dingy shop. Especially when my little sister, who all swore was the most beloved, couldn't find any friends to play with her, and wondered why the nice ladies who used to bring her treats would no longer look her in the eye._

_It didn't really help that during that time period, "freak shows" were all the rage. People with what we now know are genetic disorders and rare diseases were known far and wide for the beyond strange appearances and abilities. Science had been able to provide some explanation in some of these cases, but logical explanation behind it or not, the fact remained that these people were freaks. And now I was considered one of them._

_I isolated myself. I rarely came out of the house, and when I did, it was mostly late in the day when most people had gone home. My nocturne activities really didn't help matters, but it's like they say: out of sight, out of mind, yeah?_

_However, after some time, it became obvious what a strain my continued presence was causing on my family. Not only did my brother have a hard time finding a suitable job for one so gifted as him, and my little sister losing her life-force, but my father had taken ill and couldn't always work. My mother had to work extra hours, but even then money soon became tight. It didn't help matters that, terrified as I was of going out to find work, never mind if someone would actually hire me, I was more of a burden than anything. I ate the food bought by the hard labor of my family, yet contributed nothing in return. Sure, I helped care for the house and my father and sister. But that was it. And the problems soon left a living tension in my house._

_One day, I decided I couldn't live like that any more. Enough was enough. My family never told me to my face, but I could tell that I was more trouble than they could handle. They never blamed me nor mistreated me, but any love they might've harbored for me was reduced to mere tolerance. And I couldn't continue living my life as a coward. The guilt was enough to eat me alive._

_So I decided I had to leave. If not for my family, then for me. For all of us. If I couldn't actively contribute, then I'd remove myself from the picture so that any sources of income and food could go to the ones who actually were doing something to care for the family. I'd leave, and return only when I found a way to give back to my family what I'd stolen from them. I was four months shy of my fifteenth birthday when I left my family and my hometown for the greater world._

_I eventually arrived in Berlin. I figured that big, bustling city, full of promise and greatness had something to offer even someone as pathetic as me. We were in the middle-end of the Industrial Revolution, and the scientific advances were tremendous. I also figured that, in a city that big, the chances that I'd encounter someone from my town was slim to none. So long as I kept my strange tendencies in check, I'd be fine._

_The only problem was, that of course I wasn't the only sap lured into the city by its big, shiny promises of wealth and a better life. As in many cities during the Industrial Revolution, there were huge amounts of country folk immigrating towards the big cities for many of the same reasons. Space was scarce. Places to rent a room were scarcer still. And far from cheap. Even in the cheapest places you could find willing to take you in, more often than not you'd have to share a room with people you didn't know. Anywhere from five to eleven people were crammed into a room. Yeah, life was far from luxuries or comfortable. My family might've been far from rich, but at least we all had our space. In Berlin, personal space was a foreign concept when you weren't high class or even simply born there; even the propriety of segregating genders was a rarity._

_Yeah, it was far from nice._

_One day, I was out searching for work when a group of people caught my eye. They were standing in middle of the street, which was odd enough as the people there always had places to go, people to see, money to make. Curious, I approached the small mob and looked at what they were focusing on. It was a small man with a tanned complexion and a wide smile. He was explaining that he was an adventurer, and he'd just recently arrived from far-off Asia – China, to be exact. And that he'd traded lots over there in order to bring us Europeans magnificent hand-made souvenirs. Among them, he'd had some firecrackers. And he lit them up._

* * *

"It was amazing, yeah," I said, returning from my memories and into the present, smiling widely at her. "At first, it was only firecrackers. You should've seen the people milling around nearly jump out of their skin! It was fascinating, yeah. Those things were so tiny, but they were loud and had quite the spark. Small but mighty, yeah. Kind of like you."

She snorted. "I'm not that small. Actually, I'm average height."

"You look smaller than you are, yeah," I playfully quipped. "But anyway, it was just like _bang!_ One minute there's this tiny little red tube in his hand, and the next instant, it lets out this loud noise and shooting sparks, yeah! I could feel my heart racing! It was unlike anything I'd ever seen or heard of before!" I excitedly mime my thoughts with my hands, spreading my arms out wide and dramatically.

Sakura smiles softly at me, her eyes never leaving my face. She seems to enjoy this part of my story as much as I enjoy telling it. It must be amusing, yeah, to see a guy like me get so excited over something so small. Never mind the fact that I was actually a hundred and twenty-one years old. When Pein immortalized me, so had my soul, yeah.

"Then the guy, the merchant, suddenly pulls out a whole lot of them and they're all tied up in a row – and he lights them up, yeah! So it all goes like _band-bang-bang-bang!_ Some people panic, thinking it's too close to the sound of guns and therefore war, but the merchant quickly assured them that those are simply miniature pyrotechnics; used in festivals and celebrations. Those were just toys, he'd said, that the real treat laid on the big ones that were shot up in the sky, yeah.

"But I was already hooked with the small ones, yeah. The thought of seeing huge ones light up the night sky only excited me more. I was through the roof when he told me that those puny little firecrackers he had were nothing compared to the big ones, which could not only light up the sky for miles around but could do so in a great variation of color and even create certain shapes if done properly.

"At that moment, I had found my new addiction. Flavors were only the beginning; what I really hungered for was the exhilaration of something new and unique, yeah. But, I was unemployed with barely enough money in my pocket to pay for some food. I didn't even have enough for rent, so I was living on the streets. Although it was silly of my part, my desperation made me offer the man an exchange. My reasoning was that the man was a merchant, even if I didn't have money, if I had something of value he was interested in then I could get some fireworks, yeah."

"What did you offer him?" Sakura asked, enthralled by my story, her body leaning close to mine. I leaned towards her, too, grinning as I reached into my pocket and pulled out my little secret. Sakura followed my gaze down to my closed fist, fingers facing up; the only thing separating our faces from what could have been. I slowly uncurled my fingers, and one of my tiny clay birds laid on my palm.

"You offered him one of you creations?" she asked. I nodded.

"I didn't have much going for me, yeah. But aside from my weird habit, sculpting was something I'd always done to pass the time. When my friends left me, thinking me a freak, I created my own friends. It was easy, as even simple mud can be a good medium. And I'd had plenty of practice since my isolation. I wasn't a great artist, yeah, but it was better than could be said for one my age." I leaned back, placing the little bird in Sakura's open hand so she could admire it as I knew she liked to do.

"The bird I'd offered the man was one I'd had with me for years, back to a simpler time when I was part of the community and my family lived well with high hopes, yeah. To anyone else, it was a silly little clay bird. To me, it was a memoire, yeah, one I'd painstakingly decorated throughout the years into perfection.

"I didn't know if the man would be interested, or even so much as spare a glance at my offer. It was the most valuable thing I had, but that was for personal reasons. It might be worth no more than the dust on his shoes to the merchant. And yet… he turned and looked at it, yeah. He asked to see it. And the way he turned it in his hands, so carefully as if he was holding a precious gem… I can't describe the feeling, yeah. When he returned it to me, I was both relieved and disappointed at having it on my person again. But soon, any disappointment was cast out, as the man offered me a deal: I'd come to work for him, making my little creations for him in order to sell them and as his personal assistant, and not only would he pay me and provide me with the materials to make my sculptures, but he'd rent me a room of my own and thrown in a few firecrackers for me as well. I was speechless with joy, yeah."

"I'm so happy for you, Dei," Sakura sighed happily, her eyes taking that soft look she unknowingly displayed when she was content and at peace with the world. Like a happy ending long longed-for. The little clay bird I'd given her shook itself in her cupped hands, looking about before chirping and hopping towards me.

"Yeah," I said, stretching my hand so it could hop onto it. "It was a dream come true. Too good to be real. But it was."

We were silent for a little longer, simply enjoying the good atmosphere and each other's company. After some time, Sakura looked up at me from her lashes, her eyes slightly hazed from sleepiness. I smiled. It seemed she was just a tad too comfortable up here, yeah.

"Deidara," she said, "Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did, yeah," I smirked at her.

"Don't be a smart-ass. You now what I mean."

I chuckled, raising my hands in a placating way, the little clay bird having flown to my shoulder when I did. "Okay, yeah. Shoot."

Suddenly, her eyes no longer looked glazed, but troubled. She looked away, biting her lower lip unsurely. My smile dropped. What was wrong?

"Sakura-chan?"

"It's just… your story so far has a happy ending, from what I can see. I know that's not the whole story, and you suffered quite a bit when you were younger, and I don't want to make you feel bad or break the mood because it's so nice, and…"

"Sakura-chan, you're babbling, yeah," I teased her, inwardly smiling but not mentioning the "mood" she'd mentioned. I'd file that away for later. "You know you can ask me anything, yeah. I won't be offended."

She bit her lip again, looking up at me through her long eyelashes. "I just… don't understand, yet. Why you accepted Pein's offer."

I smiled softly at her, reaching for one of her hands. "We did mention, back when we began all this, that our stories were long and complicated, yeah, and sad" I reminded her as I helped her stand up simultaneously stood up from my seat myself. "Up until now, what I've shared with you is how I came to be. The emotional package up until now is only part of the whole, yeah. All that's left is just the feather that broke the camel's back, yeah, so to speak." Sakura looked a little downhearted at my words, and I realized that she was sad for _me_. Even though all I was telling her was long in the past and finished, she was still sad that I had to go through all that to begin with. I wondered if she felt the same for all the other monsters, yeah. Knowing her, it was likely.

But for now… now, her heart was mine; beating for me. Feeling for me.

I raised her hand to my lips and gave her a chaste kiss on gratefulness right on the knuckles. "Don't be sad, Sakura-chan, yeah," I said, smiling at her. "While the next part of my story is the sad part, it's not the end of my story, yeah. While I'm still alive," I raised her hand and pressed it into my chest, right over my heart, "my story will continue. And I'll eventually have my happy ending, yeah." I looked meaningfully at her and brushed a loose lock of her behind her ear as she blushed, but this time she didn't look away from me.

I grinned mischievously then, snaking my arm tightly around her waist. "Besides, yeah," I added playfully. "What good is a story without a little drama? And…excitement?" My wings suddenly exploded open behind me, and once again we shot up into the sky as fast as bullet in a split second. I laughed as Sakura screeched profanities, holding on to me as if her life depended on it.

"_Deidaraaaaaa!_"


	2. Sasori I

**Sasori I**

* * *

The gentle sound of wood being scraped by a knife, led by a practice hand, filled the silence. It was a comfortable silence, though. And the near-silent noise, Sakura noted, was very soothing.

It was early in the morning on a Monday. It was a holiday so Sakura didn't have to go to school. So while most of her friends and classmates enjoyed it in everyday mundane tasks, such as shopping, going to the movies, or hiking nearby if you were more outdoors-y, Sakura instead opted to spend the day with her monster friends.

She'd stayed the night in their secret hideout in the woods, and was up late trying to keep a bickering Naruto and Sasuke, who'd come with her, from tearing each other apart with their new monster forms. In the end, she'd hit them both hard on the head, leaving decent-sized goose eggs on them, and headed to her own private room, telling them that if they were missing limbs to not come crying to her. However, she'd been unable to sleep for too long, and only six hours of light sleep later, she found herself exploring the incredible fort-like hideout Pein had created for the Coven, as the peculiar group had come to call itself.

It was only when she heard the soft scrape of wood being shaved that she poked her head into a simple room that led to a terrace. Sitting by the window and illuminated by the moon was Sasori, the resident Puppet Man. He held in his hands a block of wood and a small knife, while wood shavings fell on his lap. That was something Sakura never quite understood; there was a table right in front of him yet he was quite content to let the shavings fall on him. His movements were slow and smooth, almost as if he was shaving a potato instead of a solid piece of wood.

"Sakura," he quietly greeted her, glancing at her from the corner of his sleepy honey-brown eyes without stopping his serene rhythm with the knife and nodding lightly before turning his attention back to his work.

"What are you doing up?" she quietly asked him, walking past the door to stand just out of reach.

"I could ask you the same."

She shrugged. "Couldn't sleep very well."

This time he did stop. He peered closely at her, scrutinizing. "Are you still having trouble adjusting to this place?" _To us being near you?_

Sakura frowned at the unspoken question. "No, I'm good. I never felt insecure or anything. At the beginning it was just, well, new." She walked around to the other side of the table and pulled back the unoccupied chair so she could sit. Leaning on the table with her elbows, Sakura mimicked the redhead's scrutinizing look. "I don't know why I got up so early. By all rights I should be sleeping in, especially after the Twin Idiots decided to test my patience once again. Now seriously, why are you up before the sun even deems it necessary to do it itself?"

Sasori, who'd began to frown at the mention of the Twin Idiots – also known as Sasuke and Naruto, the newest members of the monster group – immediately smoothed out his features and began carving his block of wood again. "I'm always up at this hour. Early to bed, early to rise is a good motto, you know."

"Really? I never noticed. How come? I mean, everyone else seems quite content to stay up as late as they wish."

Sasori was silent for a moment before he answered. "I like this time of the day the most. It's quiet, it's calm, the air is fresh, and I feel like I can forget anything I find unfit for a mind such as mine."

Sakura had to bite back a smile. Sometimes, Sasori just sounded like such a _snob_. Instead, she asked, "So what are you making?"

"I don't know yet."

Now Sakura stared, perplexed. Sasori didn't know? The man with the plan, the guy who was always doing something with a purpose, was just idling away his time? That was a bit shocking, to say the least.

Sasori let out a quiet snort that could have passed for a chuckle. Maybe. "Just because I like knowing things in advance, my dear, doesn't mean I plan everything down to how many breaths a day I take. Despite being a Puppet Master, I do still retain some human fondness for nonsensical things, such as doing tasks without a clear reason for doing them."

Sakura sighed. Puppet Master indeed. For some unknown reason, Sasori seemed happy enough to be more puppet than man. He'd confided in her that he never quite understood why humans did things for no particular reason; yet couldn't help but occasionally give in to the urge. It drove him insane.

"Maybe you find it therapeutic," she suggested, turning her head to gaze out the window. Dawn was coming in soon; the dark sky was already becoming slightly clearer in the horizon. "My friend Ino does some things that are, as you say by your definition, 'nonsensical' but it helps relax her, such as painting her nails. No real purpose other than the fact that she likes it."

The redhead hummed in thought, not fully disagreeing with her. "Perhaps." Sakura rolled her eyes at his stubbornness, but couldn't help the small smile that formed on her face.

"I've been meaning to ask, Sasori. Who taught you how to carve wood?"

The Puppet Master paused for the second time his movements, lifting his head to stare out the window. Sakura turned her head slightly to look at his elegant profile without fully turning her head. She really was quite curious. Not many people took up older hobbies such as wood carving, and she had immediately taken a liking to the art that enabled Sasori to create master pieces from nature.

"It was my grandmother," Sasori finally answered, breaking the silence. "Her name was Chiyo, and she was the best wood artist in the country. She learned the art of modeling wood from her parents, who learned it from their parents, and so on for many generations back."

This caught Sakura's attention. Not the fact that Sasori answered her, as he always did whenever she asked him something although with varying degrees of detail, but the fact that he was expanding his answer. He was a relatively private person, even with the other members of the monster group with whom he'd spent a decades with, so Sakura was pleasantly surprised that he'd willingly opened up himself more.

"If the art is passed down from parent to child, why did she teach you if she was your grandmother?" Sakura nearly slapped her herself. Talk about lacking tactic, or sensitivity.

Sasori didn't seem to mind too much. He spared her reflection on the window a look before focusing on the image beyond, leaning back on his chair as he lost himself in his memories from long ago.

"My parent died when I was a child. My grandmother raised me."

"I'm sorry for your loss."

"Don't be. It was long ago, before even your parents were born."

"Then let me say sorry for asking such an insensitive question. You know I have more tact than that."

A ghost of a smile came to his lips. "Perhaps you've been spending too much time with the Idiot Duo."

Sakura raised her eyebrows at him, amused. "I don't think they'd appreciate their already less than flattering nickname multiplying itself."

"And I don't think I care." He glanced at her. "Do you?"

She shrugged before folding her arms over the table and using them as a pillow. "It's not very nice, and normally I'd protest, but sometimes they just have it coming for them. For today I think I'll allow it."

Another snort that could've been a chuckle. "Thank you for your magnanimous permission, my lady."

"Oh, don't be such a smartass. Why don't you tell me more about Chiyo? If she raised such a good man she must've been wonderful."

Sasori turned his head to smirk at her. "Aren't you the little flatterer." Sakura's cheeks immediately turned red before she buried her face in her arms, grumbling about smirking men and their infuriating comments. She lifted her head so only her green eyes could glare at him.

"It's too early in the morning to be playing games, Sasori. Quit messing with my head."

Sasori leaned forward, resting elbow on the table and his cheek on his hand. With the other hand, he set down his knife on the table and took a lock of her hair and twirled it idly in his fingers. "I'm not playing games, Doll. I do mean you are quite the flatterer, however unintentional. Although many mistakes led me to spend a human lifetime of regret and denial before altogether surrendering my humanity to Pein, today I am quite proud to hear my grandmother being praised through me, however indirectly."

Sakura swatted his hand away, but he only repeated the movement, taking the pink lock once more and kept fiddling with it. Knowing he'd only stop when he felt like it, Sakura sighed and settled for letting him play with her hair. "I didn't say it idly either," she mumbled as she pouted, looking away. "I do think you are a good man."

Sasori's hand stilled. Sakura could feel his lazy gaze boring into her with an unprecedented intensity. Curious, she lifted up her head to meet his eyes dead on. She couldn't quite name the feelings she saw in them, but for Sasori who could hide his emotions quite well, seeing so many dancing in his eyes so strongly stole her breath away. It didn't hurt that his image was so breath-taking either. Red, messy hair, pale skin, and dark brown eyes, all illuminated by moonlight.

Both inhabitants let the moment stretch, silently communicating something that they themselves could not explain with words but that they knew was important. After letting out a quiet sigh, Sakura closed her eyes. "Sasori, tell me about your past. Please?"

Sasori, being one of the most conserved ones, had given her details about himself, but unlike Deidara and some others, had not told her his full story. Whether it was the timing, or lack of companionship between them or some other reason was unknown to the pink-haired Angela, but she hoped that this was the day where she'd be able to learn. Sasori, so quiet and gentlemanly, so eager to tease as he was to throw backhanded comments when annoyed, who had as much patience as a boiling teapot… Sasori, the man she knew so little of.

Her companion was silent before he answered. As Sakura had her eyes closed, she couldn't see the expression on his face, but by the soft sound of rustling of clothes, she imagined him turning his head to once again stare out the window.

"I was born in what is now Turkey. The year was 1705, according to the current calendar system."

"Does that explain why you call Deidara 'brat' so often?" Sakura interrupted thinking back to what Deidara had told her of his past so far. If she remembered correctly, then that meant that Sasori was nearly two hundred years older than the blonde demon!

Sasori didn't answer her, but kept telling his story. "Back then, it was the heart of the Ottoman Empire. The country was desperately grasping at straws trying to stay together after being defeated in the Great Turkish War only six years prior to my birth. After enjoying many years of near absolute control of a vast territory, the defeat and consequent Treaty of Karlowitz left the empire reeling after having to give up much prestige and land.

"My family was, I won't lie, humble but not as much as the word implies. We were quite well off, having a strong merchant lineage to support us. We were not quite as rich as many other merchant families, but we never had to do without and everyone had the opportunity to an education, which only those privileged enough had access to back then.

"As merchants, my family traded many things, but unlike some other families, we specialized in creating some goods ourselves. It paid off quite nicely, as the long trips gave us quite a bit of time to work on our projects and make them as detailed as wanted. We had one skill in particular that dominated our productivity."

"Wood sculpting," Sakura immediately said, smiling.

He nodded, not that she could see. "Correct. Although sculptures were the bulk of it, anything encompassing art and used wood as its medium was fair game. So sculptures, handrails, chairs, frames, woodburning… We did it all." A small amused smirk formed around his lips. "You might think of us as a glorified clan of carpenters with a little extra to give."

"Never thought I'd ever hear you describe yourself as a glorified carpenter," Sakura giggled, opening her eyes to glance at him. He was in the same position she imagined he'd be.

"With a little extra to give," he reminded her. "And whoever said I was like that? I was just talking about my family; I'm a whole different story. Now, are you going to keep interrupting, or shall I keep talking?"

"Sorry, sorry," Sakura said, raising her hands in surrender. Under her breath, she mumbled, "teapot."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Please, continue."

After shooting her a suspicious look, Sasori sighed as if the task was painfully tedious and leaned on the table again. Taking a different lock of her hair, he continued. "Chiyo, my paternal grandmother, was the matriarch in the family. She was not only one of the elders in town, but the eldest member in my clan. Although back then women had little power compared to men, Chiyo was well respected and sought after for council, even more than the male elders and holy men. Of course, she was also one of the best wood artists my clan had seen in many generations. Taking into account how my clan dominated that particular domain of art, this was saying something.

"There's not much to say about my early childhood. I think it is fair to say I was happy. Although the country was still struggling after the war and merchants were one of the hardest hit socioeconomic groups because of it, I cannot say I was unhappy. I was still educated, both in formal education and in my family's art, I hardly was in need of anything, and I had loving parents and Chiyo. I was your everyday happy toddler; chubby cheeks and all." Sasori's face darkened briefly, remembering his old life more than three hundred years back. "However, that all changed when I was five."

When he didn't elaborate right away, Sakura counted to ten. When he still didn't say anything, Sakura softly placed her hand over his, which was still holding on to her lock of hair. Giving it a gentle squeeze, and not liking the sad shadow that came over his face, she carefully asked, "What happened?"

Sasori squeezed her hand back, more softly than she had, and turned his face so they were staring directly into each other's eyes. The pink-haired Angela saw the old grief in his face, centuries old and not so much painful as forlorn, a moment before he spoke. "My parents died. They were hired across another province to make some statue or other as a bridal gift for some noble that still possessed some wealth. It would only take a month or so; however, they were murdered by thieves on the way back. I didn't find out until a year later."

Sakura's hand flew to her mouth in a weak attempt to cover her dismayed gasp. _A full year…?_ Sakura tried to imagine what that would be like – a child, awaiting for his parent's return for twelve times the amount of time he was promised. Unfortunately, Sakura had a vivid imagination and as such her mind had no problem showing her the three hundred year old image of Sasori, as a child, quietly staring out into the Middle East horizon day after day, looking for the parents that would never come home. It broke her heart.

"Oh, Sasori…"

She lifted her body from the table and reached across it to cup Sasori's cheek. His sleepy eyes, which before she believed came from his unimpressed countenance, suddenly looked so tired and _sad_ that Sakura didn't know what to do. The only thing she could think of was to squeeze his hand once more and to rub her thumb beneath his eye, drying away the ghosts of the tears he had once shed.

Sasori closed his eyes at her warm touch, and quietly sighed as he leaned his face into her palm. After taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes to reveal that dark past safely chased away. He smirked at her. "If we were both living back then, my clan would have arranged our marriage the moment you were born, you know."

Taken aback by the one-eighty turn, Sakura gawked at him. "W-what?"

He shrugged, pulling away and releasing her hand. "It's a fact. Such an exquisite desert flower such as yourself would have been fought over," he said matter-of-factly as he gathered his things. "Since my family still had significant influence and I was the youngest, it makes sense." Standing up, he brushed the wood shavings from his pants and walked around the table to stand right in front of the stunned Angela. Leaning his hips against the table's edge, he cupped her chin between his thumb and forefinger and lifted her face.

"It doesn't hurt, of course, that my family has always been a fan of beautiful things," he murmured, his hooded eyes smoldering her. She felt her cheeks warm considerably, and, fighting for her composure, she swatted his hand away.

"Y-you! Don't suddenly say things like that!" she spluttered, standing up. He shrugged indifferently, not at all offended.

"Why not? I think it's a nice bit of info."

"Ugh! You can be so infuriating sometimes, you know that?"

"Why yes, Doll, I do know that. Glad to see you've been paying attention to me."

Sakura threw her hands up in the air, giving up. Sasori quietly chuckled as she marched away, her cheeks still flaming red. "I'm going for some breakfast," she announced, looking back at him through narrowed eyes. "And don't think this is over, Sasori. I'm the Angela; meaning we'll continue this talk eventually."

Sasori waved his hand at her. "I'm not adverse to it. However, right now I believe it is more important for you to get some nutritious food into your system before the others accuse me of starving you. Now shoo."

A vein popped on her forehead, showing that she was not amused. "Don't you 'shoo' me! You're coming along, mister. I don't care if your body is made of wood part-time, right now you're in your human form meaning you need to eat. Besides, it's still early so I doubt the Coven is awake, aside from a few oddballs. Now lets go!"

Sasori shook his head at her stubbornness, but did as was told and followed her out the door. "You really would've made a splendid bride, Sakura."

"Quit it!"


End file.
